


But Dos He?

by lazy_stitch



Series: I Like Me Better When I'm With You [4]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Drinking, Drinking Games, Drunk Avengers, Drunk Wanda, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Forehead Kisses, Forehead Touching, Friendship/Love, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Relationship, Romantic Friendship, Underage Drinking, they're both in denial, vision doesn't know he's in denial tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 00:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11771763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazy_stitch/pseuds/lazy_stitch
Summary: Drunk Wanda asks the real questions like does Vision wear underwear?





	But Dos He?

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Vision wondered if he would ever understand his teammates desire for alcohol, which, from what he could tell from Google searches, was not unusual for humans.  He was curious how being drunk felt, but the repercussions seemed to outweigh whatever drunken fun could happen (if it was even remembered in the morning).  Wanda had also been interested in testing her tolerance level and getting drunk, having never had the chance to even drink good alcohol before.  She’d had some shitty, watered down beer Pietro had “liberated” for them, but hadn’t drank enough to get buzzed, because being unaware of one’s surroundings in the streets of Sokovia was dangerous.  The fact she hadn’t drank much became insanely clear when all the Avengers had sat around a round card table playing a few rounds of a drinking version of Jenga.  While the others had certainly gotten looser in their interactions and more creative in their insults, Wanda and Tony had been the only ones to be classified as “drunk” by the time Sam suggested beer pong, and Tony had gotten drunk before they’d even started playing Jenga.  Of the ones drinking, only Natasha and Steve remained completely clear-headed as the group split up to play different games.  Vision had declined participating in anything after Jenga, wanting to watch his teammates, rather than join them, to observe the effects of alcohol and hopefully come away with a conclusion as to why people were so eager to imbibe it.

Vision’s choice spot for observation was the couch.  It was sort of at the center of the room, and it allowed him to have a nice view of all the card tables set up with different drinking games.  Instead of sitting with a straight back with his hands clasped in his lap, Vision leaned back into the cushions and tucked his arms along the top of it, right leg crossed over his left.  It was a position he’d seen Tony in many times when Tony was fully relaxed.  Wanda had told Vision that he needed to look more open around the other Avengers because they didn’t pick up on his moods like she did, so he’d started copying the different ways his friends made themselves comfortable around the compound and had done some research on the Internet.  Body language was key, apparently, and his normal positions screamed tension from the way he curled and folded his body, all too aware of his long limbs.

Vision felt like he was taking up too much room for himself, but then again, no one else was sitting on the couch and they certainly weren’t approaching it, too involved in their games.  Tony and Rhodes were playing beer pong against Steve and Sam with cheers of “Team Iron Man” versus “Team Cap.”  Despite their initial competitiveness, Vision wasn’t sure either team was trying to win the game.  Both teams had started off with narrow misses, but those misses had gotten wider and wider, and no one had sank a shot into a solo cup ever since Natasha announced she and Clint would take on the winners.  She stood by the table, claiming to be a referee, but everyone knew she was watching them like a hawk to make sure they didn’t start a second game without her noticing.  Though it was unclear if anyone was playing to win, the name-calling and teasing had increased substantially, and not just because Natasha took pleasure in insulting both sides after every throw.  It was an interesting dynamic to watch, to say the least, but it got more and more predictable after every intentionally blown shot.

Vision turned his attention from the severely lacking beer pong game to the table where Wanda and Clint sat with two marked pizza boxes erect between them.  Clint had challenged Wanda to “Battle Shots” as soon as Team Cap and Team Iron Man had emerged, and Wanda’s stubborn streak won out as he started egging her on to play him.  Vision smiled softly, absurdly content watching Wanda struggle to not only play the game but keep herself upright, for it was, somehow, quite adorable.  Because Clint had already taken out three of her ships, including the ship with five spots to hit, Wanda was even drunker than Tony.  The little shot-sized plastic cups had only been filled halfway and with a drink with lower alcohol content than normal for shots so no one got completely wasted playing, but because she was a lightweight and had already been quite tipsy, Vision figured he’d be herding Wanda to her room as soon as the game finished.  After putting a sticky note on the top of her pizza box to reveal she’d missed, again, she pointed accusingly around the boxes at Clint, slurring something to him that Vision didn’t quite catch.

“You sure you’re fine over there?” Natasha’s voice brought Vision’s attention from Clint and Wanda back to the beer pong group.  He wasn’t sure he enjoyed the smirk she was giving him.  Vision quickly did a mental search of his systems to see if his body was doing something odd in the new relaxed position, but he found nothing extraordinarily abnormal.  His fond smile shifted to his normal polite one, though, unbeknownst to him.

“Yeah, y’look… different, sonny boy.” Tony added, swaying in his spot as he quite obviously gave Vision the once over.  He narrowed his eyes, face scrunching up until he took a drink of whatever was in his cup (something quite strong, from the smell of it).

“Perhaps it is because I’m not wearing a sweater, Mr. Stark?” Vision offered dryly, garnering laughter from Natasha and Rhodes as he made a show of looking down at his forest green button-up shirt that wasn’t hidden beneath a sweater.  Wanda had said they made him appear formal, so on a night where he wanted to look relaxed, he’d decided to consult the Internet for normal party wear and had been surprised, but relieved, to see button-ups on the list.  He had even rolled up the sleeves to his elbows, revealing more skin than he’d normally like to because it was a reminder he was different than the others, but Wanda had assured him he looked more than fine when he’d consulted her before the party.  It hadn’t been particularly warm in her room, but her cheeks had been quite rosy.  She had promptly kicked Vision out of her room when he commented on it, asking if she was okay, citing her need to get dressed for the party.

“Definitely that, dude.” Sam said, nodding to himself, when Tony didn’t give a response.  Vision took that as a sign Sam was more buzzed than he’d initially thought, because normally Sam could catch the times Vision tried making a joke.  Steve chuckled at Sam’s side, sympathetically patting him on the back.  Steve wasn’t drunk, but Vision knew he was getting an occasional buzz because he was drinking some Asgardian ale Thor had left him.  He still couldn’t get wasted because of his high metabolism, but he could feel the effects from the ale for a little bit since it was so much stronger than anything made on Earth.  Steve had kindly offered some to Vision before the drinking had started, figuring that Vision might be able to get buzzed like he could, but Vision had declined.  If he was to properly observe them, he couldn’t risk getting buzzed, if it was even possible, and miss something.  Everyone had respected his choice not to drink but still welcomed him in the revelries, having water on hand if Vision had to drink because of a game.

“Leave the designated driver alone, guys.  You’ll be saying he distracted you when we thrash you two.” Steve grinned at Tony and Rhodes, tossing a ping pong ball in the air.  Though he and Sam still had seven cups left, he missed by a long shot.  Vision turned away from their table as Tony made an off color comment about Steve missing the “action,” surprised to see Wanda stumbling in his direction.  Glancing behind her, he saw Clint heading over to Natasha’s side in a diagonal fashion, more tipsy than he had been when Jenga had ended.  The abandoned Battle Shots table told Vision Wanda had put up a decent fight but had ultimately failed to defeat Clint.

“He cheadded, Visch.  Such a cheadder.” Wanda murmured when she got to the couch.  Vision was unsure if she chose to lie down or had just run into the couch and accepted her fate of sprawling onto it.  Either way, she slumped into the cushions without throwing her hands to catch herself, and started mumbling incoherently into them.  Vision removed one arm from the back of the couch to rub her back in a circular motion, chuckling fondly.  He’d only started touching her on his own accord about a week ago, so he knew she’d be upset if she found out she’d missed this (because he severely doubted she’d remember much of anything in the morning).  About seven seconds after he’d started rubbing her back, Wanda’s head popped up from the cushions, lips puckered into a weird sort of pout as she considered him.  Vision froze, removing his hand from her shoulder blades, afraid he’d done something wrong.

“Warm.” Wanda said eventually, after she’d scrutinized him for about a minute.  She reached a hand out to his right thigh, rubbing her palm up and down the length of it.  Vision just watched her, not sure if he should stop her or not because he failed to understand the purpose of her actions.  Had it been anyone else, he supposed he would’ve been uncomfortable because he was still fairly unused to people touching him, and he knew humans generally didn’t touch the upper part of someone else’s thigh.  But it was Wanda, and he’d grown accustomed to her touch over the past year, as their friendship had blossomed, because she was someone who thrived off of physical contact once she’d accepted someone into her circle of loved ones.  Yet, she had never touched Vision in a new place without asking his permission first, and she always asked if she was ever making him uncomfortable with prolonged contact.  Drunk Wanda didn’t have those policies in place, and Vision was quite glad no one at the beer pong table had noticed them yet.

“ _Warm_.” Wanda repeated, puling her hand back and nodding.  Vision felt like a weight had been pulled from her shoulders with her retreating hand until she pushed herself upwards to crawl to his side, resting her head on his thigh.  It immediately came back, just as heavy as before, and he cast a quick glance at the rest of their friends to make sure none had looked over at them.  Wanda whined at him, tugging at the creased material of his pants at his knee, and it took Vision too long, in his opinion, to realize she wanted him to set his right leg down on the floor.  With his right leg propped up, it made an uncomfortable height between the couch and where Wanda rested her head, and she made a contented sigh when he understood and followed her wishes.  Vision watched Wanda for a few minutes as her breathing evened out and she started to half snore, half snuffle, mouth slightly agape on his leg and nose half closed off, and he returned his hand from awkwardly hovering above Wanda’s shoulders to the top of the couch.  As far a drunken tales went, he supposed hers was uneventful, and it made him wonder if she’d be happy or sad in the morning when she learned the worst she’d done was drool on his leg in full view of the rest of the team.

“Let her sleep it off.  She might be okay to play more games later.”

Vision looked up from Wanda’s face to see Natasha walking towards them, already halfway to the couch.  Despite Steve’s high tolerance for pretty much everything, Vision had a feeling Natasha was the most sober out of their group (except for himself, of course).  He wouldn’t put it past her to somehow weasel out of drinking alcohol without anyone knowing just so she could remain sober and get choice blackmail and teasing material.  When she reached the couch, Natasha snickered and pushed Wanda’s hair away from her open mouth, though she was careful not to touch Vision.

“She’s going to be so embarrassed when I tell her about this.” Natasha said wickedly, pulling her phone out from her back pocket to take a picture.  Vision shifted slightly, curious about why Wanda would be embarrassed.  It wasn’t like she’d ever drank good alcohol before, and she couldn’t go try to build up a tolerance because she wasn’t old enough by American laws.  The rest of the Avengers were much older and had many years to build up a tolerance (and then there was Steve, an outlier who shouldn’t be counted) and could go get alcohol whenever they wanted to.  Natasha seemed to pick up on his befuddlement because she added, “Keep me informed about how big that drool spot gets.” Vision smirked, shaking his head.  Of course.  Logically speaking, Wanda had nothing to be embarrassed about for passing out on him, because the Internet said drunk people tended to pass out wherever they wanted to, and people’s mouths kept producing saliva, even if it was open, while they slept.  And of course he missed the completely normal, emotional reaction to falling asleep on a friend and subsequently drooling on them.  He couldn’t fathom how people could be embarrassed for what their bodies did naturally, but that was just a part of being human, he supposed.  Something he’d never know about and tried not to dwell on much.

“I won’t lie and say I didn’t come over for a good picture, but before I go, I can help you get her off if you’re uncomfortable.  I wasn’t entirely convinced when you said you were fine after you found out Wanda would also be drinking.  You’re a stickler for the rules, and she’s breaking one and now…” Natasha just gestured to Wanda, and Vision got the gist of what she meant.  Something warm flickered in Vision’s chest, and he felt his smile turn more genuine than before.  He looked down from Natasha’s face to Wanda, fingers itching to run across the length of her arm.  But he didn’t, not knowing what Natasha would take away from such an action.

“Thank you for your concern, but I am quite all right.  Wanda has cuddled with me before, so this doesn’t bother me.  And since Steve explained the law more extensively, her drinking no longer discomforts me.  After all, it is harmless fun, and she is in a safe environment.” Vision said after careful consideration, turning back to face Natasha before he spoke.  He’d never wanted to stop Wanda from drinking, because it was her body and her decision, but he had considered sitting out on the party.  He knew she’d be able to pick up on if he was uncomfortable, so he hadn’t wanted to unintentionally make her stop doing something she wanted to do.  Vision had explained that to her as the party plans had progressed, creating a tension between them since Wanda didn’t want to feel responsible for making him miss team bonding despite him assuring her she wasn't.  Steve had talked to Vision once he’d noticed the strain in their interactions, and he’d been able to calm Vision’s nerves.  Underage drinking was allowed in New York, so long as the minor was drinking in their residence an their legal guardians were the ones giving them the alcohol.  Though Wanda technically didn’t have any legal guardians, Clint was the closest she’d get to one, and his presence at the drinking party meant Wanda would be following the law.  Wanda hadn’t wanted to hear Vision’s apology after Steve’s explanation, saying he didn’t have anything to apologize for because he hadn’t tried controlling her.  Vision had been at a loss what to say, because he found her behavior quite odd, but the tension had vanished after that.  It had been odd trying to avoid Wanda for not even a full day, and Vision tried not to think about if he had to live without her.

“If you’re sure…” Natasha looked like she didn’t quite believe Vision, but he waved her off, telling her to return to the fun.  Natasha shrugged, returning to the beer pong table, egging on anyone who took a shot.  It was clear that Tony and Sam were the better halves of their teams, and with both Clint and Natasha making fun of both of them for being chickens for not wanting to face Clint, they stepped up their game.  Vision watched with interest as the game heated up until Rhodes sank the winning shot for Team Iron Man.  Steve and Sam stayed by the table even after their loss, mostly to make fun of Tony and Rhodes.  They took swigs form their drinks every time someone missed a shot.

Natasha seemed fairly good at beer pong, but Clint never missed, ensuring a quick victory.  The game was over in less than three minutes, though it hadn’t been a complete blow out because Tony had managed to make a single shot.  Sam and Steve replaced them as the challengers, not lasting longer than Tony and Rhodes, but they did manage to make two shots.  That had started a competition between Team Iron Man and Team Cap: after seven games, whichever team could get more points against Clint and Natasha won, and the other team had to take sip of the Asgardian ale (Steve would have to chug a glass should Team Cap lose).  To make thing even more interesting, special rules were made for Clint since everyone agreed it was too easy for him to shoot from the edge of the table.  The opposing team got to choose how he shot or where he threw from, making the game far more fascinating for Vision to watch.  At one point, Clint had to dangle upside down from one of the stair railings, and even Vision was impressed when he made it.

Nearly an hour passed before Vision figured it was time to do his duty as designated driver and send Wanda to bed if she didn’t respond coherently enough once he woke her up.  Before the drinking had begun, the team had decided to let Vision be in charge of taking away anyone he deemed helplessly drunk, thought everyone had agreed that probably only Tony would need to be sent to his room.  Tony had then jokingly said Vision was the designated driver for the night, and the term had stuck even though he technically wouldn’t be driving anyone home.  As it had turned out, Tony was being reasonably well behaved, probably because the only women in the room were Natasha and Wanda (both of whom wouldn’t hesitate to kick his ass if he tried anything, which everyone knew he wouldn’t because Tony didn’t go after women under 25 and rarely did more than verbally flirt with Natasha), but the night was still young and he had plenty of time to get drunk enough to start a fight with someone (probably Rhodes).  Wanda was more of a concern than Tony at this point, though.  Glancing down at her, Vision was surprised to see her eyes were open and locked on the beer pong table with interest.  He hadn’t noticed when she’d woken up, too invested in watching Clint make mesmerizing trick shots.  Had she slept off some of her drunkenness like Natasha assumed she would?

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind you joining them, Wanda.” Vision said soothingly, misunderstanding why she was staring at their friends.  She rolled from her side to her back, head still on his thigh, staring up at him with the same serious gaze.  Wanda seemed to be sizing him up for some reason, and Vision considered telling her she should wipe her mouth before going to the beer pong table when she spoke.

“D’you wear ‘ny underwear, Visch?”

His thoughts came to a stuttering halt, and his body stiffened. Vision blinked down at her, face a completely blank slate because, of all things he predicted she might say, that was literally the only thing he never would’ve guessed.  Helplessly, he looked over to the beer pong table, trying to figure out where her question had come from.  Sam and Steve were the ones currently facing Clint and Natasha, and a closer look at Sam clued Vision in on Wanda’s seemingly random question.  When Sam leaned over the table, his shirt rode up, revealing the waistband of his boxers.

“I’m… sorry I don’t… understand why you’d want to know that?” His voice cracked as heat crawled into his chest.  Wanda had definitely _not_ sobered up during her nap.  There was no way she’d ask him that without being drunk, especially not when anyone else could overhear her at the beer pong table.  He would’ve answered her, though, had their friends not been within eavesdropping range.  Vision severely hoped they continued to ignore him and Wanda, especially Natasha since she posed the only real threat.  Tony never missed an opportunity to be obnoxious, and Vision didn’t want to get on the bad side of Clint’s fatherly protection of Wanda again.  Sam, Rhodes, and Steve would all have varying reactions as well, but only Natasha and Steve would remember everything in the morning.  Of that, Vision was sure.  Rhodes had started swaying with Tony by the fourth game Clint and Natasha played, and Sam had been laughing much louder and more frequently than usual for at least thirty minutes.  That left Steve and Natasha as the only possible threats, and Steve would never use Wanda’s drunken adventures against her.  Natasha, however, had proven quite adept at making Wanda blush, though Wanda had never told Vision what Natasha teased her about.  He hadn’t bothered asking her about it after the first time she avoided answering him, her face quickly turning red.

“Well, y’went cam… commando on-agains’ Ultron.  So…” Wanda shrugged, turning her head to look intently at his groin area.  Vision glanced back at the beer pong table, glad the others were absorbed in watching Clint stumble up the stairs to make another trick shot.  His heart started racing when Wanda started groping at his thigh, trying to feel if he had underwear on beneath his dark wash jeans (a fashion decision Wanda herself was responsible for).  If she had just kept talking lowly to him, Vision could’ve easily gotten the others to believe she was still asleep, but he couldn’t when she was moving her arms by herself.  He caught her hand before she reached the apex of his thigh where it met his hips, mouth twitching at the corners.  Wanda pouted at him, blowing a raspberry.

“Meanie head… godda…” Wanda trailed off as she shifted her body, reaching her other hand towards Vision’s middle.  As she pulled the front of his untucked shirt up, revealing a strip of red skin above the lips of his jeans instead of the waistband she was looking for, a cheer went up from the beer pong table because Clint had made his shot.  Vision caught her other hand quickly, holding both away from his body.  He was definitely not going to tell Wanda about this.  She’d be mortified, and it’d create unnecessary awkwardness to their interactions (not that he didn’t make them plenty awkward already).

“Oi, what’cha doin’ down there?”

Vision looked up sharply at Clint’s words, knowing full well the man meant him and Wanda and not anyone at the beer pong table.  His eyes danced between Clint, who was on an overlook from the floor above them, and the other Avengers.  Natasha resembled the fabled Cheshire Cat with her cat ate the canary grin, and Tony’s expression was twisted into something that could be called smug pride.  Vision’s mouth hung open, trying to form words that wouldn’t incriminate him or embarrass Wanda in the morning, but he didn’t account for Wanda’s drunken honesty nor her frustration at being stopped in her quest for knowledge.

“Tryin’ see if Visch wears underwear ‘r not.” She answered as he was gawking like a child who’d been caught red-handed stealing a cookie before dinner.  The entire room stilled except for Wanda as she tried wiggling her hands free from Vision’s, and an eternity seemed to pass before the others erupted at the same time in a flurry of slurred voices and jerky hand motions.

“ _Holy shit_.”

“Good fuckin’ question.”

“Bet he _doesn’t_.”

“Bet he _does_.”

“Are we starting a betting pool?”

“No reason to.  He doesn’t.  Didn’t know what underwear was fer… fer like… a month?  Two months?”

The betting pool didn’t surprise Vision since there was always some sort of bet going on in the compound, but there was no outrage like he’d expected.  In hindsight, though, four of the six of them were drunk and the other two had to be buzzed, so they perhaps weren’t processing things as they normally would.  That thought was really cemented in when Clint started trying to bet, nearly tripping down the stairs in his haste, that Vision didn’t wear underwear.  Had Clint not been drunk, Vision figured he would’ve been getting snide glares and possibly a lecture from Clint.

“I’m taking Wanda to her room.” Vision said to no one in particular, securely wrapping one of his hands around both of Wanda’s wrists to keep her hands from straying to his pants.  He used the other to nudge her to her feet, perfectly aware how the others were squabbling and staring at him.  The heat in his chest intensified and quickly flowed up to his neck and face.  Vision tried to override his systems to make it go away, but he failed miserably because it just kept coming back.  He had to settle for trying to ignore it as Wanda leaned into him as soon as he stood up, unsteady on her feet.

“’S jussa queshun, Visch.  Do it fer _science_.” Wanda mumbled into his side, giggling.

“It’s not science.” Vision responded, freeing one of her hands so he could secure it around his middle to better support her.  He kept one hand over hers, though, just in case it started straying lower, and wrapped his other arm around her waist, similar to how he’d positioned hers around him.  He hoped she wouldn’t try anything with the hand he’d left hanging limply at her side.  Wanda seemed content letting him position her how he wanted, though, and she happily leaned into his side under his arm, snuggling her face into the side of his chest.

“Bu’ I godda ‘pothesis t’ test.” Vision could barely understand her between her slurring and the muffled effect caused by his body.  He saw Natasha pull out her phone, presumably to take a picture or video of them, while Tony just whistled. Rhodes thankfully elbowed him in his ribs to stop him after a few seconds.

“Yes, but that does not mean you’re doing science if you check to see if I’m wearing underwear or not.” Vision said as he started herding her towards the hall, acutely aware of how all his teammates’ eyes zeroed in on his ass as soon as his back was to them.  Somehow, the heat increased again and spread even further across his body, dipping into his shoulders.

“I don’t see ‘ny lines, d’you?”

“No but ain’t this weird?  We’re _staring_ at _Vision’s_ _ass_.”

“… _Naaaah_.  Weird was when he had to sit in Nat’s lap during Jenga.”

“So that bettin’ pool though?”

“But how we gonna find out the truth?”

“The truth is out there, dude.”

“No shit, Sam.   _Thor_ is out there.   _He’s_ an _alien_.”

Vision shuffled as fast as Wanda would go, hurrying to the safety of the hall where the others couldn’t see them anymore.  He could still hear them talking about him, the subject now if he was going to come back and join them or not (and a betting pool was immediately established because that could easily been answered).  Vision’s nostrils flared as he breathed heavily, needing to lean his shoulder against the wall for support since his legs felt oddly limp.  His heart felt like it was an unwilling prisoner beating against his ribcage, and something seemed to be pressing down on his shoulders from above.  Vision didn’t like the way his body was feeling and wanted to try and reset his systems, but Wanda wasn’t letting him.  She had seemingly lost interest in finding out the answer to her question, but she hadn’t lost interest in him.  She took advantage of not having his full attention, wiggling out from under his arm to curl around Vision, pressing her face into his chest and securely wrapping her arms around his torso.  Since she’d hugged him before and her hands remained tightly fisted in his shirt on his back, a good deal away from his pants, Vision didn’t mind the contact.

“Yer warm.” Wanda mumbled, face still against Vision’s chest.  He found himself a bit torn.  He didn’t mind Wanda like this, calmly resting against him, but he knew he should just take her to bed.  It would be bad if this were just the calm before the storm like earlier.  In his indecision, Vision simply wrapped one arm around her shoulders, keeping her from swaying on her feet, and  started rubbing her back with his free hand.  Without the pressure from the other’s scrutiny, the weight on his shoulders was lifting.  Wanda just hummed into his chest, and Vision grew a bit concerned as the minutes passed and she leaned more and more of her weight onto him.  Wanda was far from heavy, but he did wonder if she could fall asleep standing up.  It certainly seemed that way, and he didn’t want to test her and find out.

“Wanda, if you let go, I can get you to your bed where you can sleep.  I imagine you’d be far more comfortable there than here.” Vision tried coaxing her, putting his hands on her waist to gently push her away.  She tightened her grip on him, fingers beginning to dig into his skin.

“No.  Tired.” Wanda said petulantly, shaking her head.

“Exactly.  Your room isn’t that far away, so—“

“Godda carry.” She interrupted him, propping her chin on his chest to stare up at Vision.  Vision turned his head immediately, moving one hand to rub at the back of his neck.  He’d been looking down at her, and because of their height difference, Wanda had brought their faces awfully close when she decided to look up.  The heat from earlier had slowly been leaving him, but it increased tenfold at that moment, though it was no longer uncomfortable.

“I’ll carry you if you let go.” Vision couldn’t pick her up with her refusing to let go of his torso.  Or, technically he could, but he’d much rather carry her princess style, or any other style, than that way.

“No.  Warm.  Y’godda carry.” Wanda snaked one leg around Vision’s, and the hand on the back of his neck immediately went back to her waist so he could support her weight better.  He was looking anywhere but at her, and his breathing increased as he wondered if one of the others, namely Clint, was coming to investigate where he’d gone to.  He could hear them cheering and laughing, probably still playing beer pong, but that also meant two of them were free to come looking for him.

“Hawk Dad isn’ lookin’, Visch.  Yer heart’s awful fast.” Wanda said, pressing her ear against his chest.  Vision mouth hung open slightly as he tried to find words, caught between a rock and a hard place.  He knew how she wanted him to carry her, but he also didn’t want to do that in fear of being caught.  It’d look inappropriate even though they had pure intentions.  His decision was made for him when Wanda hooked her other leg around him, and he feared bruising her from supporting her weight awkwardly by her waist.  Carefully, Vision leaned down, grasping the back of Wanda’s thighs, and he lifted her up so they rested on his hip bones.  She made a triumphant noise, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her face into his neck.  Vision’s breath got caught in his throat when Wanda pressed a kiss to his neck.

He was dead meat if Clint caught them.

“Knew y’could do it.” Vision’s brain short-circuited from a sensory overload as Wanda whispered into his neck, hyper aware of how her breath fanned over his neck and how her lips brushed his skin with every word.  She gave a shriek of laughter when he lost control of his density, his body phasing into the floor as hers slid through his hands.  In approximately two seconds he had regained control, but Wanda’s laugh was enough to set off a flurry of inquisitive noises from the living room area.  A strange, high-pitched noise escaped Vision’s lips, half choked by his constricted throat, and he flew down the hall to Wanda’s room to avoid being spotted in such a compromising position with her.

Because he'd been granted temporary access to all the rooms, Vision had no trouble unlocking Wanda's door.  He hazarded a glance down the hall as he stepped inside her room, just catching a glimpse of Tony rounding the corner with Rhodes' hands on his shoulders trying to stop him.  Vision was glad Tony didn't have a lock override like Steve did as he swiftly locked Wanda's door behind them.  Wanda giggled, mouth still close enough to his neck that her lips brushed against it.  Vision nearly dropped her again, but he kept his composure well enough to float over to her bed.  She hadn't left any lights on, but he didn't need any to see since his eyes immediately adjusted to the darkness.  With a pang, Vision realized it was another thing that set him apart from the others.

"Time for bed, Wanda." Vision said, trying to disentangle her arms from his person while keeping from abruptly dropping her.  He forgot how to breathe when Wanda crossed her legs at her ankles, bringing her torso flush against his.  He didn't dislike the feel of being so close to her (he'd actually never felt uncomfortable when Wanda touched him, much to her disbelief until he told her to look into his mind), but something about it felt wrong, and not just because she was drunk.  Vision pushed the thought aside to dissect later, for he currently had bigger problems.

Wanda wasn't heavy, least of all to someone with super strength like Vision, but she wouldn't stop shifting her weight erratically.  It was hard for Vision to balance her on one of his hands while using the other to tug at the arms and legs she was determined to keep wrapped around him.  He could try letting her go, but he didn't want to be mean or rude.  He knew Wanda was only being difficult because she was drunk, and he couldn't hold her too accountable for her actions.

"Y'gadda stay, Visch.  Gadda stay." Wanda complained as soon as Vision had a good grip on one of her hands, pulling it away from his shoulders.  He couldn't help but smile at her heartbroken expression even though it made her frown deepen.

"I thought you were tired, Wanda?  You could've walked down the hall yourself, given all the energy you've used to fight me." Vision wanted to laugh, but he refrained from doing so because he knew he'd only upset her more.  Wanda just stuck her tongue out at him, shaking her head.

Because he'd gotten one of her arms, it was easier and safer for him to lean over and let Wanda's torso fall onto her bed.  With her weight supported by something other than his hand on her thighs, Vision was able to use both hands to gently but firmly pry the rest of her limbs from his body.  He didn't know if she accepted her defeat or had lost her energy, because she didn't try to reattach herself to him.  Wanda's eyes seemed sad as she watched him take off her shoes, and Vision ignored the way her gaze weighed him down when he turned his back to her to put her shoes in her closet with her other ones.

"Y'stay, right?"

Vision was caught off guard by Wanda's quiet question, her voice barely louder than a whisper.  Turning to face her, he saw she had sat up and was remarkably still for someone who couldn't stand without swaying, eyes glossy.  He wasn't sure what he'd done to make her want to cry, and his insides curled.

"Of course, Wanda." He hurried to her side, carefully perching himself on the edge of her bed.  He mentally prepared himself for another battle when Wanda threw her arms around his neck, but it was for naught.  She let go of him after a quiet, "'M sorry." Vision frowned, helping her get under her covers and settle in for the night.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Wanda.  I know you're not in full control of your actions, and you haven't done anything to morbidly offend me or make me seriously uncomfortable."

Wanda just shrugged.  Vision couldn't tell if she completely grasped what he said, but some of her sorrow slipped away from her expression.  She snatched one of his hands between both of hers, holding it tightly and close to her face.  Wanda played with his fingers, tangling them between her own.  Vision was about to tell her she should try to go to sleep when she spoke.

"'M sorry 'cause yet m'best fren 'n I love you." Wanda squeezed his hand.  Any thought in Vision's head vanished as if they'd never been there to begin with.  There was no shock to his systems like before, just a warm wave washing over his body, and for the third time that night, his mouth was open but no words came out.  This time, though, his lips formed a trembling smile.

Love.  She loved him.  Vision had read about the emotion, and he knew there were many different types of love.  He knew she meant she loved him platonically, and he wondered if it was possible that he could reciprocate her feelings.  He knew Wanda was definitely his favorite person to be around, and not just because she treated him as an equal, as a human.  She fascinated him, never ceasing to amaze him at what she could and would do.  He enjoyed every facet of Wanda’s personality, even when she was at her worst emotionally, because she was never afraid to be herself even if she was still trying to figure out just who she was.  She warmed him to his very core, and Vision often found that he liked himself more when he was around Wanda.  She brought out something in him no one else could.  Was that love?  He didn't know, but it was probably the closest to love someone like him could get.

When Vision started leaning towards her, Wanda blinked at him owlishly.  He held her gaze, pressing his forehead to hers.

"First of all, you have whatever love I can provide, Wanda.  I also cherish you as a best friend.  Second of all, let me reiterate: you have nothing to apologize for because it wasn’t you that made me uncomfortable." Vision whispered, even though no one else was around trying to eavesdrop.  His heart ached, but it was strangely pleasant instead of painful.  Wanda smiled at his words, a few laughs bubbling up and out of her lips.  Vision leaned back slightly, and, because she wouldn't remember in the morning, pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead.  He'd always liked it when she kissed some part of his face, and now was the perfect time to try returning the favor because she couldn't tease him if he messed up or pulled a faux pass.  He straightened his back quickly, heart thrumming madly.  Vision supposed he hadn't done anything wrong because while Wanda had turned red, she had been brutally honest with Clint earlier but wasn't saying anything to Vision.  Wanda sported a goofy smile, not meeting his gaze before she turned on her side, knees curling up towards her chest.

"Warm." She said, closing her eyes and ducking her body further under her blankets.  A toothy smile broke over Vision's face, and he laughed softly.  He knew she didn't mean his hand anymore.

"Yes, warm." He stayed by Wanda's side, thoroughly confused by her drunken behavior and his own responses to her, until he heard her breathing even out and knew she'd fallen asleep.  Vision gently pulled his hand from her grip, using it to tuck her hair behind her ear before he left.  He didn't care that Wanda wouldn't remember anything in the morning; it meant he had something to himself, like a little flame of something he could protect and figure out what it meant without accidentally burning Wanda in the process.  Whatever it was, he'd let it be, because it made his body feel lighter without changing his density, and his programming seemed to run smoother and more quickly than normal.  He had to pause outside of her room, completely resetting all of his systems before he dared to consider walking back to the living room where the others were.

Vision still wasn’t sure why humans insisted drinking alcohol was fun since all he’d learned so far was they lost control of their actions.  He was certain of one thing, though.  He was never, _ever_ going to try to get drunk, because who knew what he’d do if he did?  Vision unconsciously reached a hand up to his neck, ghosting his fingers over the skin where Wanda’s lips had been.  No, he decided as he pushed off the wall, ready to rejoin the others, he was never going to try that Asgardian ale.  It wasn’t worth the risk.

**Author's Note:**

> lmao so this started as a random 4am thought while trying to plan a different fic, then became 3k of strangeness, and somehow more than doubled in word count to this final product??? i can't believe this ridiculous thing is the first thing i'm posting that's not introspection. hope it's up to par with the angst i've been cranking out and that drunk wanda wasn't too unrealistic? i've only been around one drunk person, and she just quietly goes to sleep so...
> 
> (in case anyone was wondering, yes, the title did come from bettany's cheeky bit of inspired pr work in an interview when he said, "but does he [, vision, need the mind stone to survive]?" so, y'all decide for yourselves if vision wears underwear or not)


End file.
